


E quando eu estiver...

by Mamichigo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (it's just one language but you get what I mean), Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Languages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamichigo/pseuds/Mamichigo
Summary: Sometimes, the English language isn't enough to fully describe an emotion.(Good thing Connor has many other languages at his disposal)





	E quando eu estiver...

**Author's Note:**

> This is about Portuguese, btw. I wanted to take the concept further, this fic was actually gonna be longer, but I honestly should focus on my other projects, so I chose to focus on just one Portuguese word. This was just an excuse to talk about my first language, so it be like that

Connor has been thinking about it; about how to describe what he thinks Hank is feeling at the moment, he means.

Even after so much time has passed since he went deviant, Connor is still learning to deal with his own emotions, which led him to decide to catalogue Hank’s to better identify his own. Hank isn’t particularly favorable to the quiet staring, and some days he might actually lash out if he’s stressed enough. But, otherwise, Hank is as accepting of it as he can be—on rare occasions, Hank himself might even explain what he feels and how he feels it, but Connor has quickly learned not to expect that from someone as emotionally closed off as Hank is.

Point is that, lately, Hank seems… Not distressed, not exactly sad. Maybe nostalgic would be it, he supposes, but that didn’t carry enough significance to properly describe it. What Connor has observed is that with Summer getting hotter each day—and Gavin complaining about being stuck in the precinct on the nice sunny afternoons—, Hank has a tendency to get this specific look on his face.

It’s related to Cole, that much is very much clear, and, as it stands at the moment, there’s an 89% probability of Summer being the kid’s favorite season. Hank has taken to looking at Cole’s picture—now on its permanent place in the living room, by the computer that Hank doesn’t often use—with more frequency and will, sometimes, gaze at parks or at the bright scenery outside his window with a longing gaze.

It’s the exact same reaction Connor observed back a few months ago, when he insisted they buy special dog treats for Sumo’s birthday. The little sad smile and the distant look, but with a touch of happiness that contradicted both of those. It had confused Connor then just as much as it currently does. It couldn’t be grief or guilt, as those never had a trace of positive emotions; plus, the context was entirely off, and so wouldn’t make sense in the situation.

After a week of puzzling over this, Connor decided that maybe he was restricting his research by using only the English language as reference. Instead, he went through his extensive language database, looking for something that would help him better understand Hank’s mood, the action running in the background whilst he’s making coffee.

That’s what leads Connor, on a quiet and warm Sunday morning, to blurt out, “Ah, saudade,” just loudly enough for the sleepy Hank on the kitchen table to hear.

The human looks up, clearly confused by the foreign word. He squints his eyes as he grumbles, “What the hell did you just say?”

Connor, feeling satisfied now that he has a word for it, smiles as he passes Hank his coffee filled mug and goes to sit opposite to him. “Saudade. It’s a Portuguese word; it’s quite unique, as it doesn’t exist in any other language.”

“Of course you know Portuguese…” Hank mumbles. Connor, knowing that Hank is bound to offer further comment, waits patiently as he takes a careful sip of his coffee. Surely enough, Hank is soon looking up at Connor. “Well, what does it mean anyways? Is it a swear word?”

Hank smirks at him, and Connor rolls his eyes.

“Of course not, Hank. Please, give me some credit.” Hank shrugs and makes a rolling motion with a hand, a sign for Connor to go on. “Well, the closest you could get in English is to say you miss something, but that fails to translate its emotional weight. The dictionary defines it as a melancholic and, at the same time, soft memory of something or someone.”

Hank pauses at that, and his head turn just a few centimeters towards the living room—to the place where Cole’s picture is. “…Huh. That’s interesting, I guess.”

“Yes, many Portuguese speaking individuals are quite fond of the word.”

“Does it really not have an English translation for it?”

“Well,” Connor tilted his head, running a quick analysis, “emotion wise, it’d be fairly close to homesickness.”

Hank nods in understanding, but he’s scrunching up his nose as he seems to think of something. After a few minutes of contemplative silence—which Connor is guessing Hank used to decide if he should say what’s on his mind or not—, Hank asks, “Why were you thinking about that, you even blurted it out like it was some great discovery or some shit.”

“I’ve been reflecting on… Feelings.” Hank lets out an involuntary wince, and Connor honestly can’t blame him. “You sparked it, actually. I couldn’t understand your recent behavior, or name what emotion was causing it. But I have my answer now, so no need to worry, you don’t have to go through ‘a disgusting mushy talk at eight in the fucking morning’,” Connor says, using Hank’s own voice for the last part.

“Don’t do that creepy android shit, Jesus,” Hank admonished, running a hand through his hair. “And that doesn’t make me feel better, by the way. Can’t a guy be an emotional old man in peace around his own house without being analyzed?”

“I was just curious. And… Worried, as well. Your wellbeing is important to me, and I can’t know if you need support without understanding what you are feeling.”

“What did I say about emotions talk before I’ve had my coffee, Connor?”

“They shouldn’t fucking exist,” Connor replied, but this time in his own voice, monotonous and deadpan.

“Exactly. Now shut the fuck up about foreign words and lemme enjoy my coffee.”

“Got it.”

Staying true to his word, Connor doesn’t mention the topic again, focusing instead on continuing his morning tasks around the house, including taking Sumo out for a walk, which doesn’t take all that long, since Sumo is quite the lazy dog. Soon enough, Connor is back in the house, the duo instantly walking to the living room in searches for Hank.

Connor finds him standing by the desk, Cole’s picture in his hand, thumb caressing the cheek of the young boy in it. Hank barely gives Sumo any attention when the dog walks up to him, causing Sumo to irritably huff and retreat to find a napping spot. Hank has that happy-sad look on his face again.

Saudade, Connor remembers.

“Hank?” He approaches carefully, just in case he came back at a bad time, just in case this is going to turn into one of those days when Hank stays on the couch all day, watching TV with empty eyes.

“Hey, you’re back already, that was fast,” Hank says. He reluctantly puts the picture back in its place, but doesn’t turn to look at Connor.

“Yes, Sumo was just as opposed to walking today as he usually is any other time.”

But Hank already knows Sumo’s habits, already knows Connor wouldn’t take long to walk him. The man had probably been lost in thought and not noticed time go by, which Connor doesn’t comment on. He takes a step closer, lifts a hand.

“Is everything alr—”

“That word you said before. Saw, uh…”

“Saudade.”

“Yeah, yeah, that. Have you ever felt like that?”

Connor smiles with fondness. Hank might feel strong aversion to talking about emotions, especially his own, but he’d never let that keep him from speaking up if he got concerned over someone’s wellbeing.

Connor gives the living room a quick look before crouching down next to Sumo’s already sleeping form and petting him gently. He looks up at Hank, makes sure the man is properly looking back when he nods.

“No,” he says firmly, “I’m already home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title: "E quando eu estiver..." (And when I'm...), a reference to a Brazilian song called Sutilmente (Subtly) by Skank. The first line from the lyrics is "And when I'm sad, simply hug me".
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on tumblr](https://mamichigo.tumblr.com/)


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